


Customers

by Liliriu



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Customer Service, Gen, Kindness, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliriu/pseuds/Liliriu
Summary: Death being Death.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Customers

Once upon a time, there was an anthropomorphic personification called Death. One morning, as Death was checking her schedule for the day, she found an unpleasant surprise. It was not _that_ unpleasant, or even not _that_ surprising, but it was… kind-of-annoying news. Death sighed; there was no choice, the task which caused her annoyance would have to be fulfilled. At least it was not scheduled until noon… Which came too quickly. _Way_ too quickly. Now there really was no choice; Death would have to pay a visit to her most frequent customer.

He was not a bad guy, really; Death actually kind of liked him, and he _had_ had a difficult childhood, or adulthood, or whatever. No, it was the older brother who actually pissed her off. And yet… Abel did have a way of absolutely getting in your nerves until you wanted to kill him only you couldn’t because you are fucking Death, so if you are coming for him, then it necessarily means that he is already dead, even if it had already happened about thirty times this week. Until now, that’s it. Death allowed herself one last sigh, and materialized herself into her own brother’s realm.

Even from outside the house, Death could tell that there was something different about it, yet she could not quite put her finger on _what_. She took a moment to reflect on the matter… Perhaps the house looked… happy…? Very strange, indeed. It was not her usual habit, but Death knocked on the door; she was one to consider the practice of delaying suffering much more convenient than the one of delaying pleasure.

The feeling -not actually of wrongness, but more like _strangeness_ \- only got intensified as a very surprised Abel opened the door and invited her into his house. It was not Abel’s perplexed expression, but the whole vibe of the place: it was shiny clean, there was a delicious smell of cake being baked, and a cheerful tune was playing on the radio. Death recognized it: it was the newest song by [insert whatever preteen girls listen to these days]. That made her smile, she loved them!

It hit her then: Abel’s surprised look, and the general pleasant feeling in and out of the house, they both shared the same cause – Cain was not home. That explained why Abel was surprised to see her: his brother was not there to kill him; and since in all the former occasions in which Death had visited, it had always been in order to pick a recently murdered Abel, the murderer had obviously been always present.

“De-de-death, such a nice su-surprise that you came vi-visit,” said Abel, almost comfortable.

“Thank you, Abel,” Death exhibited her kindest smile, “my apologies for dropping by without notice.”

“No pr-problem, it is always… eh…” Abel looked rather confused, “always re-relieving to see you,” he opted for. “Please take a si-sit, the ca-cake is almost ready.”

For a moment, Death felt tempted to agree; she could use a lunch break (yes cake was lunch), the atmosphere was relaxing, and the smell was _really_ good, but… she felt that she had postponed enough, and decided that it was time to be done with her task.

“I am sorry, Abel, perhaps next time? I am afraid that I came here on business,” she said quietly, a bit saddened at the sight of Abel trying to check his own heartbeat and breathing, “not you, Abel, you’re fine!” she added quickly.

That only caused the little man to look even more horrified, yet it was hard to tell why, since it took him a couple of moments of just moving his mouth in panic before actually succeeding to produce the words: _“i-is Ca-ca-ca-cain all ri-right?!”_

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, your brother is all right!” Death hurried to calm him down.

“…Oh,” was Abel’s whole reaction, perhaps not sure himself if he was relieved or disappointed. “…Then who…?”

“Abel, I am very sorry,” and she was, more about the man in front of her than about her actual customer, who, she believed, had lived a fulfilling life after all. “I came here to pick Goldie.”

The look on Abel’s face was heart crushing. “Go-goldie? But he was so you-young… No, it cannot be true…”

Slowly, he walked towards the shelf on which the fishbowl stood, Death a few steps behind. The fish inside seemed to, indeed, be breathing his last breaths.

“I am so sorry Abel. He was more than one year old. That is a very long lifespan, for his kind,” said Death, and offered Abel a hug, which he gratefully took.

“P-please take ca-care of him, pro-promise me…” asked Abel, still wiping tears.

Death shook her head, “I will, Abel. I will,” she promised.

With much respect, she approached the golden soul, and prepared it for the journey towards its final destination.

I am well aware that nobody asked, but that, friends, is how Death got her goldfish.


End file.
